Sunrider
by TheWolfofthePalatine
Summary: Years after her apprentice defeated the Sith Triumvirate, Vima Sunrider has to decide whether or not to train her own daughter as a Jedi Knight, and what it may mean for her family's legacy to do so...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

So this is the third Star Wars fanfic I've set out to do on this site. After not being satisfied with my previous two I decided to scrap 'em and start again, this time, instead of relying wholly on OCs to lead the plot, I'm delving into established lore and telling more of the story of one of my favourite characters from the comic books - Vima Sunrider. After the events of the Tales of the Jedi series we don't really know much about what happened to her, except that her apprentice - canonically, a female Jedi named Meetra Surik - went on to be the hero of Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords and overthrow the Sith Triumvirate. I wanted to tell the story of Vima _after_ the war had come to an end - we know that, canonically, Vima had a baby, but we don't really know who that was. So I decided to reuse an OC from my previous fanfic - Talia - and reintroduce her instead not as a Sith, but as Vima Sunrider's Force Sensitive daughter. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this story yet, but I'm hoping whatever happens it's an enjoyable ride.

Anybody who's interested in this sort of thing; the story is set roughly 3,800 years before the birth of Luke Skywalker and a few years after the events of Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords. In Vima's lifetime she's lived through the Great Sith War, the Mandalorian Wars, the Jedi Civil War and, finally, the Dark Wars, which her own apprentice brought to an end. At present, the Republic is at peace and is busy annexing what remains of the Revanchist Empire back into the fold. As far as the Jedi are concerned, the Sith have been defeated and balance has been restored to the Force.

As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated ^^ Hope you guys enjoy :) (Oh, yeah, the only way I could include Vima and her master, Ulic, as characters appearing in this fanfic was by labeling it a crossover - the "Star Wars" comics and the "Star Wars" videogames are considered separate titles by this website. So, weirdly, I couldn't include them in the list. Since more people are familiar with the characters of the KotOR series than the comics, I elected to go for that instead :) )

* * *

**ONE**

Her Mother's Daughter

In Vima's mind, she was back on Rhen Var.

_He_ stood across from her, his golden lightsaber blade shimmering in the bitter snowfall. The Cathar lioness stood across from him, sharp teeth bared in malice, her crimson blade humming and crackling as snowflakes melted against it. She stepped forward and roared, her saber flashing overhead, bringing it down in a vicious strike. Effortlessly, the once-Dark Lord of the Sith raised his saber, deflecting the blow with one hand. And another, and another. Vima's eyes were wide. Her master – her _friend_, her mother's lover – fought so calmly, so removed from the biting cold and the sick fear that plagued her heart as she watched him. The Cathar sidestepped, swinging for his legs, but the redeemed Sith Lord simply batted her assault away as if she were an annoying plaything. The Cathar growled in frustration, and even from this distance Vima could feel the hatred pulsing out of her like a furnace. She leapt through the air, blade flashing, driving it straight towards the Sith Lord's heart. Vima let out a scream.

And then she opened her eyes.

Vima Sunrider wasn't on Rhen Var. She was in the duelling room of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and the golden-yellow lightsaber blade belonged not to her old master, but to Bastila Shan. And there were two. The Jedi Knight twirled her double-sided yellow saber overhead, a sly smile splitting her face. Vima slowly and calmly came out of her meditative trance, and stood up. There was a bursting sound as her lightsaber ignited, its green blade – a gift from her murdered father – shimmering into life.

'Are you sure you wanna' try this again, Shan?' Vima purred, gripping her lightsaber in both hands.

Bastila grinned, holding her saber flat out behind her, 'You know what they say about those who can't do, _Master_ Sunrider,' she purred, her eyes twinkling. 'You may have trained a great Jedi – but I _am_ a great Jedi.'

Vima dropped her stance, going defensive from the outset. She let Bastila's teasing tone wash over her; she was not like the stuffy old elders on the High Council. Her friends were still her friends, and she expected to be treated no differently by them, Master or no. 'And _you_ know what they say about pride, Bastila. Have at it!'

Bastila lunged forwards with a yell, twirling her lightsaber overhead in a brilliant circle of yellow light, and brought it down in a vicious hacking slash over Vima's head. The Jedi Master sidestepped at the last possible minute, the ends of her red hair singed by the plasma blade. She lashed out with a jabbing move, but Bastila flicked her blade upwards and swatted it away. The second blade was quick to follow in an offensive follow-up, but Vima was able to deflect this without much effort.

Fighting a Jedi with a double-bladed lightsaber required even more intense concentration than usual for duelling. Instead of having to worry about one blade, you had to worry about two – even if the relative position of one side could be judged by the position of the other. Some experienced Jedi – and the legendary Bastila Shan was _nothing_ if not experienced – actually switched on and off their second blade during a fight, to keep their opponent guessing. As the two girls danced around the room, green and yellow blades flashing and crackling with the exertion of combat, Vima could feel Bastila reaching out with the Force and probing her defences. If the Jedi Knight sensed, even for a split second, that Vima's thoughts had wandered and let her defences slip, she would lash out with the Force and rip the ground out from underneath Vima's feet. One did not become a Jedi Master, however, by making such Padawan mistakes – she let Bastila probe and test her defences with her mind, while instead Vima's entire concentration remained on deflecting Bastila's double-edged offensive flurries with her single blade. She was calm, comfortable on the back foot, waiting for Bastila to make a mistake. Then she would exploit that weakness and close in for the kill.

Bastila lashed out with both blades in quick succession, the first high, which Vima blocked just inches from her freckled nose, and the second low, coming in from an irregular angle towards her right knee. Without the Jedi power of foresight a regular opponent would have been crippled then and there, but no sooner had Vima parried the first strike and she was twisting her lightsaber in her hands, inverting it to take the brunt of the second blow. Seeing her attack wither, Bastila swept away, twirling gracefully across the room and then holding her lightsaber at her side, slanting at a downward angle in a textbook defensive posture. Vima, too, lowered her guard, and both girls started to circle the room around each other. A flicker of a frown creased Bastila's full lips.

'She came to me again last night,' she said quietly, and Vima didn't have to ask whom she meant. 'Begging me to train her.' Vima didn't take her eyes off of Bastila, nor her mind off of those twin yellow blades. It was a cheap trick; talking to take your opponent's mind off the fight. All it would do, however, was overextend Bastila's mental faculties – the more she talked, the less energy she was putting into minding the Living Force. Sooner or later her defence would show a weakness. And then Vima would already have won. 'She is strong with the Force, you know,' Bastila continued, 'she would make a worthy apprentice, if that's what you're worried about…'

Vima continued circling Bastila, lightsaber purring. 'That's _not_ why I refuse to train her,' she answered curtly, 'and you know it. She is not ready.'

Bastila scoffed, and suddenly raced forwards, twirling to deliver a back-handed shot to Vima's head. '_And what about your mother_?' she spat as she performed the manoeuvre.

'…What about her?' Vima grunted in response, only deflecting the attack at the last possible moment. Once again, Bastila twirled across the room, out of Vima's reach.

'Oh, come on, don't you see the significance?' Bastila asked. 'You refusing to train your own daughter?'

Vima ground her teeth. Now, maybe, just maybe, Bastila was getting to her a little. 'It's not the same thing.'

'Of course it is!' Bastila protested. 'Your mother wouldn't train you, so you ran away from her. Do you think Talia is any less headstrong?'

'No…' Vima admitted, fighting to keep her composure. 'And that's the problem.'

Bastila leapt from her feet, somersaulting through the air and landing behind Vima. Vima spun just in time to duck as Bastila slashed her saber through the air in a decapitating arc. Vima's eyes went wide. That was a killing blow; did Bastila have so much confidence in Vima's skills that she _knew_ it wouldn't have caught her off guard…? That was a bit too much of a risk to take in training…

Even still, the overzealous move overbalanced Bastila's centre of gravity, and Vima was able to plant a spinning heel kick directly into the Jedi Knight's hard stomach. With an _oof_, Bastila flew backwards across the room, extinguishing her lightsaber blades before she even hit the far wall with a dull thud and a groan. Vima, panting with physical exertion, lowered her guard so that her blade drooped by her side in one hand. She stood with her legs apart, staring after Bastila. She disengaged the kill switch on her lightsaber, and its green blade died with a hiss.

'I will not train Talia,' Vima said conclusively. 'And I will not allow any other Jedi to do so – even you.'

Bastila picked herself up and shook the cobwebs from her head. 'My husband has offered to train her,' she muttered in a matter-of-fact tone. Vima felt her heart seize up in her chest. She had not been expecting that.

'We've been friends for so many years,' Vima whispered. 'I've never even _met_ your husband, but yet he'd offer to train my only daughter…?'

'He sees potential in her, Veem,' Bastila cooed. 'The same potential we all see in her. You included, even if you won't admit it.'

'Of course _he_ does…' Vima said lightly, and immediately regretted it. Bastila looked away from her, trying to hide the hurt that crept over her features. 'Bastila, I…'

'The Council have never really accepted him back,' she shook her head, 'not since he refused to be retrained.' At length, she looked back up to meet Vima's eyes, and Vima could see the ghost of a far wiser woman staring back through them. A woman who, Vima honestly felt, was far more deserving of the rank of Master than she was. 'But it's not like your master was approved and certified by the Jedi Council either, right?'

Vima nodded her head slowly. There was really no sense in even denying that Bastila had her dead to rights. Her master had been a Jedi exile, a war criminal, and a former Dark Lord of the Sith. Hardly the most inspiring of figures for a teenaged girl to pledge herself to. And yet, Ulic Qel-Droma had made her who she was today – he'd taught her the meaning of altruism, selflessness and – finally – sacrifice. She owed him everything.

Vima sank to the floor, crossing her legs and clipping her lightsaber hilt to her belt. Her eyes downcast, she sighed deeply. Then she shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Bastila,' she said. 'But my decision is final. I don't want Talia to be trained; _even_ if your husband is offering to do so himself. At least…not until she's ready.'

Bastila scoffed, and made for the door. She paused at the threshold, holding the frame with her right hand. 'You sound just like your mother,' she said quietly before disappearing out into the hallway.

Vima swallowed, and looked up into the empty doorway after her.

'Yeah…' she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

The Jedi Exile

They had come for her in the night.

Vima Sunrider slept soundly in the arms of her lover – his name she now ashamedly could barely remember. Even in the deep recesses of sleep she had felt the disturbance in the Force, and had jolted awake, her spasm waking him up too. She sat up in bed, and listened, and when he had asked her what was wrong she'd held up a hand for silence.

Then the Sith Assassins had broken in.

Crimson blades like blood in the night, they poured into the room – no less than four of them – and lunged for the two Jedi Knights on the bed. They had reacted without blinking; reaching out with the Force to pull their lightsabers to their hands, they leapt out of bed and met the Sith head on, green and blue blades flashing in the dark. They had fought through the house, side-by-side together, draped in nothing but their night clothes. Out in the garden, at last, the four Assassins surrounded them and, back to back, Vima and her lover urged them to strike. The first one – who lunged at the male, mistaking him to be the adept of the couple – fell quickly with a quick parry and slash. The next two lunged at Vima and she batted one out of the way with the hilt of her lightsaber and smashed the second against a far wall with the Force. Then the fourth and final Assassin had moved in, drawing a second lightsaber and descending upon Vima's lover – before she could spin around to back him up in the fight, he had been struck down, and for an instant – an ever so brief instant – she had given in to her rage.

The look of fear and despair upon the Sith Assassin's face before she decapitated him was delicious.

Bastila had found her there, Vima's face speckled with her lover's blood, his body limp in her arms. She had picked her up and urged her to remember her training. To remember the Jedi way.

'They're dead,' Bastila had said in despair, 'we're the only ones left. The Sith have come for us all, and now it's too late.'

'I don't understand…' Vima replied as they ran. 'It's over…Darth Malak is dead, the war is over.'

'No…' Bastila's eyes were downcast. 'No…it's not. This is something worse.'

On the grounds of the Jedi Temple on the Republic capital world of Coruscant, Jedi Master Vima Sunrider opened her eyes, her vision dissipating and melting back into the physical world around her. Though it was late spring, and the warm fingers of summer were creeping through the air in the little garden she meditated in, she shivered.

The sun was high in the sky, bearing down upon the little garden and its central pond, next to which Vima sat, cross-legged. Around her, the Temple buzzed with life – Jedi Knights in deep meditation or study, Padawan learners listening to lectures out on the grass by their Masters, younglings running around, playing and laughing together. They had come so far in such a short space of time; the Jedi Order, hunted down almost to extinction by the Sith Triumvirate, had rebuilt themselves to be stronger than ever.

And it was all down to one woman.

'I never knew you cared,' a cheerful voice from behind her caused Vima to stand up suddenly. She spun around to come eye-to-eye with Master Meetra Surik…her former Padawan learner.

'What did I tell you about minding your abilities,' Vima growled, replacing her deep hood over her red hair. 'A person's thoughts are their most private, most honest form of identity. It is against the doctrine of the Light Side to pry into them.'

Meetra flashed a pretty smile, barely concealed by her own hood. Then her face fell. 'You were thinking about the Purge, weren't you?' she said slowly, her voice dark and heavy. Vima nodded, and the two girls began to walk side-by-side, away from the garden.

'We will forever be indebted to you, Master Surik,' Vima replied. Meetra shook her head.

'The Jedi are the protectors of the weak, the innocent, the defenceless. The Sith are no replacement for that – I acted as any Jedi would have. It is not our destiny to succumb to the Dark Side of the Force.'

Vima smiled warmly at her former apprentice. 'When you say that, you almost _sound_ like a Jedi Master.'

Meetra grinned. 'You'll always be the wiser one, Master Sunrider,' she cooed. Then again, her expression darkened. 'You know why I've come here.'

Vima knew immediately. She cleared her throat noisily as they stepped into the cool Temple interior. 'I have already spoken to Bastila on this subject,' she said firmly. 'I will not allow Talia to be trained. She is too…she is too full of anger.'

'And I wasn't?' Meetra rounded on her master, stopping them both dead in their tracks. 'I ran away from you! When I felt my training wasn't advancing fast enough, I left to join the Crusaders on the frontlines of the Mandalorian Wars! You think I wasn't full of anger and pride and self-righteousness when I abandoned you, and made Revan my master?'

'It's not the same,' Vima shook her head, 'whatever happened to Revan…whatever happened to all the Revanchists out there in the Unknown Regions…it didn't happen to you. You were exiled, excommunicated, cut off from our Order and yet…you never once lost faith. You never gave in to the Dark Side of the Force.'

'But how were you to know that at the time?' Meetra urged. 'When Revan and Malak returned from the unknown, when they declared war on the Jedi…you never knew that I wasn't with them, along with all the other Revanchist Crusaders, did you…?' Vima cast her eyes to the floor, not knowing what to say. 'Did you?'

At last, she sighed and shook her head. 'No…for all I knew…you were with them.'

Meetra nodded slowly, and put a comforting hand on Vima's shoulder. 'Exactly. We never know what's going to happen. But there's one thing I do know – the Republic is at peace. The Jedi are rebuilding. For the first time in a thousand years the Jedi are looking inwards, not outwards at the political machinations of an entire galaxy. All eyes are on our new crop of Padawan learners. You may worry about Talia's anger, but…' Meetra shrugged, '…you won't be alone. All the Masters – _myself_, included, as well as Bastila! – will be watching over her. We will not let her go astray, Master Vima. You have my _word_ on that.'

Vima bit her bottom lip. She could see the intelligent reason behind her apprentice's words. Meetra Surik had, without a doubt, outgrown her former master and most every Jedi on the High Council – there was no doubt in the recesses of Vima's mind that it had partly to do with her time spent as a student of the Revanchists. Whatever had happened to them, out there on the fringes of civilised space, it had unlocked Force potential the likes of which no Jedi could hope to replicate. The very idea – that there was something far stronger, far _darker_, out there on the edge – terrified Vima. But nonetheless, it had made Meetra Surik by far the most powerful Jedi of her generation. And easily amongst the wisest to boot.

'Talia is my daughter,' Vima exclaimed finally. 'I won't have anyone else train her but me; and right now I refuse to do so.'

Meetra sighed deeply, knowing that her master's resolve was unshakable. She looked hard into Vima's eyes. 'You know _he's_ asking for her,' Meetra said. 'He has not set foot once in this Temple since he returned, nor has he wanted anything to do with the Jedi Order, but…all the same, _he_ was asking if he could train her personally. He sees unparalleled potential in her.'

'I know,' Vima said. 'Bastila said as much.'

'Vima…' Meetra struggled for words. 'During the Dark Wars, I…I fought the Sith Triumvirate, alone. No other Jedi remained strong enough to stand up to them. Darth Sion, Darth Traya…' she paused, and shivered suddenly, '…_Darth Nihilus_…' even the way she whispered his name seemed to cool the very air around them. Vima pulled her robe tighter around her frame. 'Dark Lords of the Sith, all, and yet…they pale in comparison to _him_.' The stoic expression on her face unnerved Vima; she knew Meetra was telling the truth. 'No-one has ever done – nor will ever do – what he has achieved; to master _both_ the Light and Dark Sides as effortlessly as we recite the Jedi Code. He was the greatest Sith Lord who ever lived…and now, he is the greatest Jedi living.

'He will come to petition you himself, Vima.'

'I know…'

'And I don't think _he_ will take "no" for an answer…'


End file.
